


maybe you shouldn't kiss and tell

by phae



Series: Controls - Shuffle - By Prompt [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bad Boy Phil, Circus, College AU, Established Relationship, Fluff, Getting Together, Hugs, Laser Tag, M/M, SHIELD Husbands, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2013-09-10
Packaged: 2017-12-22 16:41:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/915555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phae/pseuds/phae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ClintCoulson prompt fills from tumblr memes featuring: Neck kiss! All the kisses! Goofy kiss x2! Bear hug!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. how can i fall asleep?

**Author's Note:**

> Like these? Feel free to send me prompts on [tumblr](http://dasmarchenleben.tumblr.com/ask)! :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Phil glared at the backlit number pad as it flashed red to signify the passcode was incorrect. Again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from Marry Me Jane's _You Didn't Kiss Me_.

**Prompt from[redsector-a](http://redsector-a.tumblr.com): Clint/Coulson, neck kiss**

Phil glared at the backlit number pad as it flashed red to signify the passcode was incorrect. Again. He knew this, it was his personal code to his on-base quarters, he entered it in on autopilot all the damn time, but the one time he hesitated, too tired to quickly recall the first digit, the whole string alluded him.

He tried again— _0-6-1-8-1-9-7-1_ , maybe?—but the lock didn’t disengage, and Phil gave in to the frustration that had been building over the past week and let his head hit the door with a muffled _thud_.

The doorknob twisted, and his forehead inched down the reinforced steel as the door swung forward on silent hinges. He heard a startled, “Sir?” and then his face was pressed into the warmth of a bare chest.

Phil teetered backward and a strong hand grasped his bicep before he swayed right back to where he’d started. “Barton?” Phil asked, regarding his sleep-rumpled asset in open befuddlement.

“Things in Bangladesh went that well, huh?”

“Why are you in my quarters?”

With a snort, Barton pulled him forward to slip his arm around Phil’s waist and steered him through the doorway. “No worries, sir. We’ll get you to bed, then maybe some espresso when you wake up, and everything’ll make sense again.”

“What?” Phil wanted to protest further, but Barton was taking his briefcase from him and slipping his suit jacket off his shoulders. Then he was shoved unceremoniously towards the bed in the corner, and all together he couldn’t pinpoint which issue to address first. He fell back on the bed in lieu of deciding.

“These are my quarters, boss,” Barton explained, tossing a teasing smile Phil’s way. “But _mi casa es su casa_ , I guess, so budge over.” Barton nudged at his side with a bony knee until Phil rolled over toward the wall with a groan.

The bed was a single, hardly intended to fit two grown men, but Barton seemed fine with pressing close against Phil’s back. And Phil was in a bed, which had been his intended target once he got past the infernal keypad, so Phil figured it was best to go to sleep and question the situation later.

Just as soon as he could figure out where to put his legs. And what to do with his arm. And a good spot to leave his head.

Barton’s arm crept back around his waist and rolled him back until he was laying against Barton’s chest. Barton’s nose nestled into the curve between his neck and shoulder, and Phil could feel his breath rustle the short hairs at his nape as he sighed. “Stop wiggling,” Barton ordered, his lips smushed into Phil’s skin.

Phil stilled, and Barton kissed his neck with a pleased hum. He should say something about that, Phil thought distantly, but then he was asleep, Barton’s arm still cradling him.


	2. tell me how to turn your love on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Clint was sprawled across the bed clad only in a purple fluffy towel. Under him, the sheets were a deeper grey than usual, dampened by his dripping skin and hair._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from 1D's _Kiss You_.

  
**Prompt from[totalnerdatheart](http://totalnerdatheart.tumblr.com): ClintCoulson, any of the above. (I took it upon myself to hit as many as I feasibly could.)**  

 

Phil walked into the bedroom already slipping his tie free, one hand swiftly unbuttoning his shirt. He came up short at the foot of the bed, and his shoulders quickly rose and fell with a quiet, fond laugh. Clint was sprawled across the bed clad only in a purple fluffy towel. Under him, the sheets were a deeper grey than usual, dampened by his dripping skin and hair.

Stepping out of his shoes, Phil climbed up on the bed and moved to hover over Clint. “Baby, you need to get up so I can change the sheets,” he mumbled.

Clint groaned out a stubborn, “No.”

Phil’s eyes raked down Clint’s bare torso, his gaze slowly sliding from admiring to assessing. Then with a devious little grin he’d picked up from Clint, Phil dropped down to his elbows and traced along the top edge of the towel with his nose.

With a pleased purr, Clint wiggled in place, loosening the towel.

Phil let his lips tease across Clint’s hips, nipping lightly at the jut of his hipbone, then he started to mark a steady path upward.

He kissed up the firm muscles of Clint’s stomach, stopping briefly to swirl his tongue over Clint’s navel, which made Clint suck in with a shocked laugh to hollow his belly.

Phil continued to move higher, licking up Clint’s ribs and leaving a smattering of wet kisses along his chest.

“You’re goin’ the wrong way, babe,” Clint mumbled drowsily. Phil smirked into his skin and didn’t pause on his way to Clint’s collarbones.

As Phil sucked kisses along his neck, Clint huffed in frustration and lifted his hands to push at Phil’s shoulders in an attempt to steer him back down to his growing erection, which Phil felt as it slowly swelled against the knee he had between Clint’s parted thighs.

Phil bit deep into the skin just under Clint’s jaw in reprimand, and Clint stilled with a pout. “Tease.”

Phil worked his way around Clint’s face, ignoring his mouth in favor of kissing his cheek, his temple, the corner of his eye, his forehead. “Phil,” Clint whined.

Phil didn’t respond, simply kissed his way down the bridge of Clint’s nose and then gave a quick peck to Clint’s lips.

Clint’s eyes squinted open to mock-glare at Phil. “Seriously, babe? This is quick becoming cruel and unusual.”

Phil didn’t bother to hide his smirk from Clint and waited a five-count before he leaned in to lick filthily into Clint’s sleep-slack mouth. He flicked his tongue against Clint’s and drew it into his mouth, pulling away slowly while he sucked firmly, drawing a moan from deep in Clint’s chest.

When Phil didn’t move back in to kiss him again, Clint let out a strangled groan. “This is like the sexual version of ding-dong-ditch. You rang the doorbell, I went to answer it. You ran off, and now I’m standing in an open doorway with an unsucked dick.”

“How unfortunate for you,” Phil said, sitting back and moving off the bed. “You should get up so I can switch the sheets, then maybe I’ll consider taking care of that.”

“Devious ass,” Clint grumbled, clumsily rolling off the bed nonetheless. Phil hummed in agreement, already pulling up the damp sheets. He tossed them in the laundry basket on his way to the closet to get a clean set and quickly set about remaking the bed.

He was tucking in the last corner when Clint stepped up behind him and wrapped his arms low around Phil’s stomach, propping his chin on Phil’s shoulder. “That’s a big part of why I love you, though,” Clint muttered. “The deviousness in addition to the great ass."

Phil straightened up and turned in Clint’s arms to loop his own around Clint’s shoulders. This time when he kissed Clint, he let himself linger and savor the slick slide of Clint’s tongue against his own. He pulled back so that his lips were just resting on Clint’s and said, “Smart man.”

He moved one arm down to press his palm flat to Clint’s chest, turning them around so that the back of Clint’s knees hit the edge of the mattress. With a shove that only knocked Clint over because he was willing to play along, Phil ordered, “Now lay back and think of England.”

Lascivious grin firmly in place, Clint responded, “Sir, yes sir!”


	3. no more teachers and no more books

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Yes, it was Friday night. Yes, Phil was studying in the library. No, that was not sad. It was responsible. And practical. And his boyfriend was engaged in some campus-wide Nerf game, so it’s not like he had anything better to do at the moment._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from _My First Kiss_ \- 3Oh!3 feat. Ke$ha.

**Prompt from[an-introduction-to-fandom](http://an-introduction-to-fandom.tumblr.com): ClintCoulson, goofy kiss (no lie, I just about stuck them in Disney World, with Phil taking a photo of Clint giving Goofy a kiss.)**

 

Yes, it was Friday night. Yes, Phil was studying in the library. No, that was not sad. It was responsible. And practical. And his boyfriend was engaged in some campus-wide Nerf game, so it’s not like he had anything better to do at the moment.

He was working ahead on his Ancient History paper, immersed in listing the differences between recorded history and accounts in literature, and steadfastly ignoring the muted sounds of students running around the lower levels, taking cover behind the bookcases as they fired styrofoam darts at each other.

Phil jerked up at the bang of the stairwell door slamming open and sighed in irritation; they’d finally breached his fortress of solitude. Not a minute later, something smacked into the back of his head. He glanced down to the floor next to his uncomfortably straight-backed chair at the offending Nerf dart.

His attention snapped back up to his work table as a body slid across the top, making the whole thing skid to the side with a screeching lurch. There was the whirr of a battery-powered motor and the  _fwip fwip fwip_ of three rapid-fire darts flying past his cheek. Phil blinked and tried to comprehend the fact that his boyfriend was sprawled over the table in front of him, Nerf gun aimed at some point behind him.

Clint tore his eyes away from whoever he was shooting at and grinned at Phil. “No worries, babe,” he said. “I’ll defend your honor.”

“How chivalrous of you,” Phil returned, deadpan.

Clint’s head turned as he caught some movement out of the corner of his eye. “Do me a favor?” he asked. “Grab those darts for me while I school Tony?” His eyes still tracking Tony through the stacks, Clint rolled toward Phil and smacked an open-mouthed kiss just to the side of his nose. Then he flipped off the table, firing after Tony who was cackling as he ran past the psychology shelves.

Phil remained in his seat for a moment, wiping at his slobbery cheek with the back of his hand. Then he stood and walked two stacks over. It was the work of a moment to clothesline Tony, snatch his gun as he fell back, and fire a dart at his forehead then one at Clint’s ass as he abruptly switched directions once he caught sight of Phil.

Phil checked the ammo left—7 darts, enough—and gave chase.


	4. kissing you in public

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Phil has two phones--his Coulson-phone and his Phil-phone._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Soulja Boy feat. Sammie's _Kiss Me Thru the Phone_.

**[an-introduction-to-fandom](http://an-introduction-to-fandom.tumblr.com) said: college!AU is the best, although I totally would’ve accepted the Goofy/Disney. Thanks! (So, goofy kiss! Take two!)**

Phil has two phones—his Coulson-phone and his Phil-phone.

The Coulson-phone is linked in his mind to stressful mission clean-up, middle of the night crises, and incessant e-mail alerts that chimed in with an annoying default ringtone. The background was simply blue, nothing to detract from the time displayed and the app shortcuts.

The Phil-phone was the epitome of personal. It was the phone his family called him on, the phone Clint called whether or not it was work-related. Even having met the Captain— _call me Steve_ —he still couldn’t bring himself to change his ringtone from  _Star Spangled Man With a Plan_. It was filled with photos, both ones his sister had sent him of his niece and an alarming amount of Clint caught in adorable moments.

His current background was a photo he’d taken on their last pseudo-vacation. They’d been coming back from Cuba after a successful op, and nothing pressing had awaited them back at HQ, so Phil had let Clint convince him to stop off in Orlando. They’d spent a day at Disney World, Clint dragging him around to meet all the characters while they waited for their FastPasses to be active. The screen of the Phil-phone was filled corner-to-corner with Clint, his arms around the shoulders of a tall, lanky Goofy, grinning as he pressed a kiss to Goofy’s cheek.

The Coulson-phone was the latest StarkTech, guaranteed to suss out a signal even in the heart of the Amazon, virtually indestructible, and, though only a prototype, valued at over $500. But the Phil-phone, that one was priceless.


	5. we hope you enjoyed the show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Clint closed the door and checked the lock on Giselle’s cage, running his fingers down the bridge of the bear’s snout when she pressed up against the bars because her paranoid trainer wasn’t around to tell him it was too dangerous._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Aqua's _Goodbye to the Circus_.

**Prompt from[ralkana](http://ralkana.tumblr.com/):**   **Clint/Coulson, bear hug!**

 

Clint closed the door and checked the lock on Giselle’s cage, running his fingers down the bridge of the bear’s snout when she pressed up against the bars because her paranoid trainer wasn’t around to tell him it was _too dangerous._  


 

The heavy _thwap_ of the tent flap preceded light footsteps headed his way, making Clint tense and back away from Giselle quickly. He looked back over his shoulder, expecting Yanni (whose real name was Jimmy and whose fake accent came off more French than Greek) but it was just that jackass townie who’d stared at him even after he’d finished his performance earlier, the jerkwad who was now swaggering toward him with that same nit-picking stare burning a hole through Clint.This close, Clint could easily tell by the guy’s babyface that he wasn’t much older than Clint, but he was dressed like some wannabe punk with black kohl lining his eyes that had aged him a few years at a distance.

 

When Clint had first stepped out under the big top withhis bow, the guy had zeroed in on him from his spot under the stands where he stood smoking a cigarette.Clint was plenty used to all eyes being on him when he was showing off his talents, that was kind of the point really, but this guy’s eyes had mocked rather than praised. Even with his back to the asshat, Clint could feel his judging stare stabbing between his shoulder blades. It had left Clint twitchy, and he hadn’t been able to relax into the soothing routine of drawing his bowstring taut and aiming at impossibly small targets. He’d missed the center of a bouncing tennis ball by nearly a centimeter, distracted by the gaze trying to pin him in place.

 

Faced with the jerk who’d knocked him off balance, Clint easily redirected his anger and self-blame at the townie. Giselle, no doubt sensing the shift in his mood, clawed at the bars keeping her back, her lips pulled back to bare her sharp teeth as she growled lowly. The townie stopped abruptly, and the cocksure idiot finally looked away from Clint to wearily glance at Giselle’s cage door.

 

“Not scared, are ya?” Clint taunted with a cruel smirk.

 

The townie looked back to him, one eyebrow raised. “Of the giant grizzly licking her chops and eyeing me like a piece of meat? Nah, what’s scary about that?”

 

Clint nearly laughed at the guy’s deadpan drawl, which pissed him off more, so he narrowed his eyes instead. He leant back against the cage bars, only a few inches away from Giselle and her angry snarl. “Aw shucks,” he said in his thickest hick accent. “Just her way of askin’ for a hug.”

 

“Bestiality wasn’t really what I had in mind for tonight when I followed you back here,” the townie admitted, advancing again with a slow, dirty smirk sliding across his face.

 

Clint got the sudden impression that he’d been reading the guy all kinds of wrong, mistaking heat and lust for criticism and contempt. Granted, he was sixteen, and who really understood the intricacies of hormones and flirting at sixteen?

 

Coughing to clear his throat and hopefully add a bit of deep grit to his tone, Clint said, “I’ve got a trailer parked on the other side of the lot.” The townie stopped once the tips of his shoes knocked into Clint’s and reached a hand out to Clint’s hip, Clint catching a flash of dark painted nails out of the corner of his eye.

 

Blushing as the guy pulled him forward and into his chest, he continued, “Well, I mean, I share it with my brother, but he’s out for the night. So we could go there. You know, so Giselle doesn’t get jealous. Of all the…hugging.”

 

The townie angled his head down and pressed his mouth to the column of Clint’s throat, muttering, “And the blowing. Also, the fucking.”

 

Clint gargled out some form of consent and pulled the townie behind him in his mad scramble to get back to his trailer.


End file.
